A View of the Sea
by DarkScales
Summary: Odasaku had six kids, not just five. And that sixth orphan made all the difference. (Or: in which a younger Atsushi has a protective streak, Mimic gets a nasty surprise, and somehow everything ends well.) Season 2 spoilers, fix-it.


**Warning:** contains major spoilers for Bungou Stray Dogs Season 2 Episode 4. Because the events of that episode destroyed me and I decided that a fix-it fic was needed. Please feel free to leave a review with any comments or constructive criticism you might have! Thanks for reading, and enjoy. :)

 **Summary:** Odasaku had six kids, not just five. And that sixth orphan made all the difference. (Or: in which a younger Atsushi has a protective streak, Mimic gets a nasty surprise, and somehow everything ends well.)

 **Rating:** T for canon-typical violence.

* * *

His first indication that something was wrong was when all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Like the bristling of a cat's fur, spine going stiff and hackles rising. A sense of unease prickled across his nerves, and his hands stilled from where they were wiping down the counter.

His second indication was the van. It was generic and white, parked in the almost-empty lot outside the shop. It had pulled up a few seconds prior, but its windows were dark and there was no indication of anyone inside it.

The sense of unease intensified.

Atsushi, never taking his eyes off the van, leaned back and tapped a white-clothed shoulder. "Ano… may I please borrow your phone? I need to call Odasaku." He kept his tone light and easy, though there was an underlying waver that he hadn't entirely managed to cover up.

"Eh? Sure." The phone was passed over, its owner too distracted to notice anything amiss. "Miss him already, huh?"

Atsushi forced a laugh as he scrolled through the phone's contacts and pressed the appropriate buttons. He only had to wait a couple rings before the phone was picked up, his guardian's voice echoing down the line.

" _Hello? What do you need? Did something happen?_ " Odasaku's tone was calm, but it was easy to pick out the sharp edges behind it.

"Odasaku, it's Atsushi." He hesitated, tensing when the curtain over one of the van's windows rippled. "It might be a false alarm, but–"

A sharp inhale from the other end of the line. " _Atsushi, what's happening?_ " The man's voice became terse with worry. " _Remember, trust your instincts. What is it?_ "

"There's a white van outside." The words spilled from Atsushi's mouth before he could catch them, tumbling over themselves as he kept his gaze trained on the now-motionless window. "And it's– I have a bad feeling, something's not right." He paused, collecting his thoughts, while the feeling of unease grew stronger. He resisted the urge to start pacing. "The tiger is nervous."

There was a crackle of static as Odasaku hissed into the speaker. " _Go to the others,_ " he instructed. " _I'm on my way. Lock all the doors. Hide, and stay safe._ "

The call ended with no further exchange. Atsushi stared at the blinking red icon for a moment before he whirled around, babbling warnings to the curry shop's owner as he physically pushed the man into the back. Seconds later he had vaulted the counter, flipped the sign in the window to _Closed,_ and was in the process of locking the door and closing the blinds when the doors of the van slammed open.

 _No!_ Atsushi swore under his breath as he dashed for the upstairs half of the building, all but leaping up the indoor staircase. He didn't bother taking his shoes off when he skidded into the hall, only stopped long enough to lock the door that led to the outside stairs before bursting into the room he shared with the other kids.

"We have to hide!" he yelled, and from outside he could hear booted feet pounding across asphalt. _Odasaku, hurry up!_

The kids only stared at him, frozen.

 _I'm the oldest. I have to protect them._ Atsushi darted into the room, pulling out the couch and shoving Shinji and Kosuke (who each yelped in protest but there was no time to argue with them) behind it. Sakura was pushed along with Katsumi and Yuu into the wardrobe, the door firmly shutting against their muffled sounds of shock.

Downstairs, glass shattered.

" _Quiet,_ " Atsushi whispered, looking around for anything he could use as cover. Footsteps were already pounding up the stairs, and he flinched as the sound of gunshots cut a startled cry short.

At the end of the hall, something _banged_ against the door. Atsushi's breath hitched. He turned and locked the door to the bedroom behind him with shaking hands, thankful that the curtains were already closed.

 _I'm the oldest,_ he thought again. _I have to protect them. Odasaku said so._

His own pulse was too loud in his ears, echoed by the rapid _thump thump thump_ of something heavy colliding against the door. Wood splintered half a beat later, and then–

Someone shot out the lock, and a tiger roared.

* * *

 _No!_

Odasaku saw the van as he tore through the parking lot, but paid it no mind. His focus was only on the shattered front windows of the shop, on the slumped figure behind the counter that he found when he dashed inside, on the gunshots and screaming he could hear from upstairs.

What really made his heart stop, though, were the feral snarls and the shrieks of children mixed into the chaos. _I'm too late!_

He didn't remember how he got upstairs, only that one moment he was staring up at the ceiling and the next moment he was ambushing Mimic from behind. Some soldiers were already trying to run, fleeing from the adolescent white tiger that was ripping through their ranks as it blocked the hall. White fur was splattered with red, but it was clear that the tiger was flagging. Gashes littered its body, one eye was swollen shut, and it was beginning to pant with exertion.

Odasaku slammed his pistol into a man's temple, sweeping another man's feet out from under him at the same time. Using that momentum, he spun and shot out a third's kneecaps. Atsushi pounced on the last soldier standing, bowling him over, and gave Odasaku the opportunity to knock him out.

"...Good job," Odasaku said, rubbing a hand between Atsushi's ears. The tiger rumbled, leaning against his side, eyes closing to half-lidded. "I can take care of things from here."

Atsushi's head drooped, as if attempting a nod and only managing it halfway. A flash of light and Odasaku had to catch the abruptly human teenager before he collapsed, wincing at the lacerations and gunshot wounds that would need to be taken care of before Atsushi's healing factor closed over them. Re-opening injuries to get at bullets still left buried in flesh would _not_ be fun.

A little ways down the hall, five pairs of feet moved slowly towards the door. The kids peeked out, wide-eyed and pale. "Is it over?"

Odasaku nodded. "Yes, but stay in your room. I need to clean up and make some calls, okay?"

"...Is Atsushi okay?" Katsumi asked, voice trembling. "That's a lot of blood."

"He'll be fine," Odasaku assured her. He had one hand resting lightly on Atsushi's chest, feeling its steady rise and fall. A bit ragged, yes, but not immediately life-threatening.

Well. Not _immediately_ life-threatening, anyway.

Odasaku took a moment to breathe, grip tightening on Atsushi's prone form. His kids were alive. Mimic had failed. And he would make their leader _pay_ for hurting them.

First, though. He did have to make some calls.

"Hey, Dazai? I need a favor…"

* * *

It wasn't until they found the explosives in the van that all the pieces of Mimic's plan were put together. Dazai was the one who explained his theory, explained what Mimic had been planning to do, and with every word, Odasaku's blood _boiled._

 _Too close. Far,_ _ **far**_ _too close. If Atsushi hadn't–_

No. He wasn't going to think about that. He very firmly decided to shut those thoughts away and bury them within the crevasses of his mind, because _no._ That route of possibilities didn't bear thinking about.

"We're interrogating the captured soldiers now," Dazai told him, the pair of them standing outside Atsushi's hospital room to give the kids privacy. Odasaku was fairly sure he could hear crying, but it was more of a relieved sort of crying than anything else, so he didn't have to interfere.

"Good," Odasaku replied. "This time, I _will_ take down Gide." His tone brooked no room for argument.

Dazai nodded. "Agreed. This is… too far." He paused, then, mouth drawn tight into an unhappy slash. "How did they know about the kids?"

Odasaku shrugged. "I don't know. Before, nobody else knew about them except you and the Boss."

"...Hm." Dazai narrowed his eyes. "Interesting." He walked by Odasaku, one hand reaching out to clasp his shoulder in companionship. "I'll keep you updated with any new information."

Oh. Oh, dear. Odasaku recognized that tone of voice. That was Dazai's _I've found something_ _ **interesting**_ _and not in a good way_ voice, one that rarely ended well for whoever was on the receiving end.

All Odasaku could do, though, was stand there in that sterile hospital hall and watch his friend walk away. All Odasaku could do was trust him, since he wasn't exactly in a position to go rushing off himself. Not when he had the kids to take care of.

(Atsushi looked so _small_ in the hospital bed, so slight and pale and– it wasn't _right,_ he should have been happy and bouncing around, should have been chattering away at the kids and helping them with their work and not like _this,_ not still and quiet and far too close to death for comfort. His injuries had been slightly worse than Odasaku let on to the kids, not wanting to worry them, and… well. Atsushi would recover. It would take time, but he would.

Anything else was unacceptable.)

* * *

" _I know where they are."_

Dazai and Odasaku routed Mimic together, blazing through their ranks like twin wildfires. Odasaku and Gide clashed, Ability against Ability, endless futures spiraling down a hundred different paths. Dazai covered him, even as Mafia grunts and Mimic soldiers mowed each other down. Soon, just the three of them were left, dancing around puddles of blood and gore.

In another world, perhaps it would simply have been two. In another world, perhaps Gide would have been laughing, wild and unhinged against Odasaku's cold fury.

This wasn't that world. The difference, here, was that Odasaku didn't fight alone, that fought for the people he lived for, and in the end–

It was Dazai who killed him, fingers resting on Gide's pulse to neutralize his Ability. There was no ceremony to it, no grandstanding, no final last words or monologue. Only a bullet to the head, the echo of the shot reverberating off the polished floors, and the dull _thud_ of a collapsing body. One more to join all the others, already growing cold.

Dazai and Odasaku left the mansion as it burned, fire painting the sky in brilliant streaks of red-orange-yellow rage.

* * *

Atsushi's room had a window overlooking the harbor, and that was where Dazai found Odasaku not a day after Mimic fell.

"How are the kids?"

Odasaku nodded to where they had somehow squished themselves into Atsushi's hospital bed, curled up and clinging tight to the teen that was all but their brother. "Fine. Scared, obviously, but Atsushi woke up earlier and they haven't left his side since."

Dazai's lips quirked. "Loyal, eh?" He settled into a chair, glancing out the window. "Nice view."

"Could be worse." Odasaku watched a seagull swoop low over the water, heard the rhythmic crash of waves on shore.

Silence stretched between them, each lost in their own thoughts.

"...It was a setup, you know."

"Hm?"

"Mori used you. He let Mimic into the country, orchestrated the conflict with them and told them about the children. The plan was that you would be so grief-stricken after their deaths that you would sacrifice yourself to defeat Mimic. He wanted to force the government's hand, use it to get the Port Mafia an Ability Business Permit."

Odasaku didn't ask how Dazai had found out. "...I see."

Dazai stretched. "If it wasn't for your tiger cub here, it would have worked." His gaze flicked to Atsushi. "He's certainly more than I expected."

Odasaku smiled. "He did well. I'm proud." Even as he spoke, Kosuke sighed and pressed a little closer to Atsushi's arm. "For his first real fight, that was impressive."

Dazai made an interested noise. "And you say he's only Akutagawa's age? He has quite a bit of potential."

His friend's tone raised warning bells in the back of Odasaku's mind. His eyes narrowed. " _No,_ Dazai."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" Dazai protested.

"No," Odasaku repeated. "It would break him. He's too kind for the Mafia. Too gentle."

"Akutagawa's opposite." Dazai smirked. "They would balance each other out well, I think."

"They'd kill each other first," Odasaku retorted.

"Perhaps," Dazai conceded. "Maybe not yet, then. When they're older."

As one, the pair looked at the pile of children on the bed. It rather reminded Odasaku of pictures he'd seen of kittens sleeping, sprawled all over each other in a loose pile of limbs.

Odasaku sighed. "You should acknowledge Akutagawa more."

"Hm?"

"He craves your approval," Odasaku elaborated. "Carrot and stick works best if there is carrot as well as stick."

Dazai snorted. "He needs to learn discipline."

"He's a teenager."

"So?"

"If there's anything I've learned from Atsushi," Odasaku said, dry, "it's that teenagers often get strange ideas into their heads about what they believe adults are thinking. Which makes clear communication _very important._ "

Silence.

Dazai leaned back in his seat, tone contemplative. "Eh, Odasaku… when did you become such a parent?"

Odasaku nodded at the kids. "When I took them in, I imagine." He smiled, small but warm. "Atsushi is not like other teenagers in many ways, and neither is Akutagawa. You're right, they do have a lot in common– but how they react to things is utterly different. Akutagawa hides his insecurities in anger and lashes out, while Atsushi withdraws into himself and only feeds his own self-loathing and doubts."

Dazai tipped his head back against the wall. "...Akutagawa is difficult for me to deal with," he admitted, and Odasaku knew how much trust it must have taken Dazai to say it by the seriousness of his voice. "I think he's too much like me, almost. He needs to grow strong, and quickly at that. I thought, perhaps, that this was the best way to teach him."

"For someone else, perhaps it would be," Odasaku allowed. "But Akutagawa tried to kill me when he thought I stood between him and you. Don't you think that's going a bit far?"

Dazai winced. "He might be _slightly_ more of a wildcard than I intended."

Odasaku stifled an amused huff.

* * *

"I'm quitting."

"What?"

"I can't risk the kids any longer. Everyone knows about them now; it isn't safe."

"Hold on! Odasaku, _wait–_ "

"Dazai. You are my friend."

"...What?"

"Neither good nor evil means much to you, I know. But… I want to be on the side that saves people. I owe the children good lives. _Happy_ lives. And now, I don't think I can give them that while I'm in the Port Mafia. Not when Mori would have happily had them killed for his own gain."

"Odasaku, are you sure? It won't be easy to escape, you know."

"I know."

"...You're really serious about this."

"Yes. But there was also something else I wanted to ask you."

"Oh? What?"

"Come with me."

" _What?_ "

"Whether you're on the side who kills people or the side who saves people, nothing beyond what you would expect will appear. If both sides are the same, become a good man. I think… that'd make you at least a little bit better."

"I– is that really what you want?"

"It's your choice. But I think it would be good for you."

"...Let me think about it."

"That's all I ask."

* * *

 _ **Four Years Later**_

In a cozy apartment with a view of the sea, there lived far more people than was probably allowed. It was cramped, always loud and never a moment of peace, but, to them, it was home. There were messy drawings stuck to the fridge alongside sticky notes with scribbled lists of groceries and reminders. There were two lightbulbs that flickered late at night but never went out, and nobody ever got around to changing them. A light dusting of fur covered everything except the kitchen, which was kept meticulously clean. The apparent theme of the apartment was ordered chaos, a characteristic of any dwelling in which children resided.

Next door, there was a man who lived alone. He wore bandages on his arms and a sometimes-fake, sometimes-not smile on his face. He tended to wander over whenever he felt like it, which was to say, nearly all the time. The coating of fur had spread to his apartment as well, and over time his closet had gained extra sets of kid's clothes folded neatly over the hidden compartments of weaponry. It wasn't uncommon to see him lean out his window and shout something over to the open window of his neighbors when he was too lazy to walk over, to which other denizens of the building would often hear a reply of _Stop shouting! You have a phone, so use it!_

(Either that, or a child's head would poke out and yell right back. It depended on the time of day, really.)

In that first apartment, however, the one with the faulty lightbulbs and the kitten-pile of children who'd never quite lost the habit of sleeping all over each other, there was a small desk right up beside the window. It was situated so that whoever sat there could have an easy view of the ocean, of the waves and the beach and the endless expanse of sea. That desk was perhaps one of the neatest things in the entire apartment, always clean and organized and ready to be used.

Sometimes, a man would sit there, pen inking words into a spiral-bound notebook. Other times, it would be a laptop, keys tapping away as so much white noise. He would pause, occasionally, stop his work and take a moment to look out the window and simply watch it all go by.

( _Maybe it isn't exactly what I pictured,_ Odasaku mused one lazy afternoon, thinking of white tiger hairs perpetually stuck to his clothes and dirt irreversibly ground into tatami mats by pattering feet. _But… this is good._

 _This is enough._

And he was content.)


End file.
